


Untitled

by safelybeds



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:11:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safelybeds/pseuds/safelybeds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chewing gum goes in your mouth, not on your head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the P4 kinkmeme in 2009

Yosuke didn’t start his day expecting to be parked in Souji’s desk chair (the one with the wheels; the one Yosuke scratched up the floor with when he was bored) with a pair of scissors snipping dangerously close to his ears. Then again, he didn’t go to work expecting to become a trash receptacle. Somehow, things just happened that way for him.

“You should really report this to your Dad,” Souji pressed, maneuvering the scissors carefully around a large piece of chewing gum. Yosuke could hear the traces of resignation in his partners’ suggestion: they both knew that he would never bother his father with this. “You’re a floor manager. This isn’t acceptable behavior. It wouldn’t be if you were still part time, either, but you’re their  _boss_ — ”

“I woke up this way, remember?” Yosuke reminded, trying not to wince when he saw a large chunk of his hair — colored with some gunky blotches of spearmint green — fall onto his knee. He brushed it away. “I couldn’t even name the kids who did it. Might not even  _be_ the part-timers.”

“Right,” Souji answered flatly, slicing another clump of hair away with a metallic snip. “It was sweet little Mrs. Ito that snuck into the break room while you were napping and ground a pack of gum into your hair.”

“Hey, she’s got pretty shifty eyes, right?” Yosuke joked feebly, trying to adjust to just how light his head was starting to feel. Surely the hair now laying around his feet didn’t weigh <I>that</I> much? Then again, maybe you got used to certain things after wearing your hair long for ten years.

Their conversation petered out from there and Souji’s steady snipping was soon the only thing cutting the silence of the room. The part-time kids — or Ito-san, Yosuke still wasn’t ruling her out — had certainly been thorough, he had to give him that. He didn’t awake to gum just sitting in his hair, no, he found it  _mashed_  into it, almost like he was being lathered up with shampoo. He wound up staying in his office for the rest of the day, too embarrassed to leave until all the shoppers cleared out and the recessed lights dimmed, before hurrying home three hours past his shift end. The Junes  _Winter Fun_  clearance aisle (spring was nipping at their heels and his father was adamant about clearing out their surplus mittens and plastic oranges) granted him the dignity of a ski-cap, for the cheap price of only 700¥. He rung it up himself.

“You need to find a new job,” Souji decided, worming the scissors against a particularly stubborn piece stuck behind Yosuke’s ear. For his part, Yosuke didn’t argue. He had a page of wanted ads circled somewhere — probably under the fridge or <I>in</I> the fridge, if he knew how absent-minded Souji could get when he cleaned — but the idea of using his dull as dirt accounting degree didn’t appeal to him. Nevermind that he was doing Junes’ books as it was; that didn’t count.

“Eventually,” he answered, reaching a hand back over his shoulder to rub at whatever part of Souji he could touch. He felt his fingertips hit the soft flesh of Souji’s belly and rumpled his shirt a little in the process, silencing whatever further pressings Souji had queued up. Both of them smiled and, this time, the silence wasn’t nearly as heavy.

“Well, the gum is out!” Souji declared triumphantly, setting aside the scissors (now doomed to stick with each use). “It’s…about as even as I could get it, and I’ll get you a hair appointment tomorrow, but at least you won’t have to sleep like that, right?”

Yosuke tentatively brought his fingers up to his hair, swallowing hard when he felt nothing but air until just under his ear. Some more probing revealed that his hair was practically as short as Kanji’s and, despite Souji’s claims, not very even at all. Was that a bit of his <I>scalp</I> he was feeling…?

“It’ll look better once a professional gets their hands on it,” Souji assured with shaky confidence. Yosuke swiveled around in the chair, about to say something — probably something along the lines of ‘I’m never leaving the house again’ — when Souji’s hand flew up over his mouth just before a burst of laughter could escape. Yosuke was glaring hard enough to bore a hole through him.

“I’m sorry,” Souji gasped, staring resolutely down at his feet, only to giggle again when he finally peeked back up at him, “I’m  _really_  sorry, it’s not f-funny. Really.”

Yosuke was up out of the chair in a flash, sending it spinning as he sought out his ski cap.

Souji followed after him, grabbing his wrists just as Yosuke was about to jam the wool hat over his head. He smiled, eyes crinkling in that way they did when he was trying  _very_  hard not to laugh, “C’mon, Yosuke, don’t be that way.”

“What way? The Look-Like-I-Have-Mange way? Don’t think I can do that, man,” Yosuke protested, struggling without much effort against Souji’s hands until finally giving way. It was with reluctance that he let Souji wrap his arms around him.

“This is your fault.”

“I didn’t put all that stuff in your hair.”

“…You know what I mean.”

“It’ll grow back.”

“I know how hair works, idiot.”

Souji let his grip on Yosuke go slack, pressing a kiss to the crown of his newly fuzzy head. It still felt weird, like there should be a much thicker cushion between Souji’s lips and his skin, but that was one thing about this mess he didn’t really mind.

“Let’s go to bed,” Souji decided for them as he pulled away, still keeping a loose grip on Yosuke’s wrists while he pulled him down the hall.

“What about the…?” Yosuke swiveled his head around to stare at the pile of hair — jeez, had there really been that much? — surrounding Souji’s desk chair. His partner tutted, pulling him into their bedroom with a final yank; an unspoken  _it can wait until tomorrow_ on his lips as he shut the door behind them.

Yosuke ended up wearing the ski cap for a good month, despite the valiant efforts of the poor stylist saddled with fixing what Souji had ruined. And if the part-timers giggled each time he passed them during his rounds, Yosuke took it in stride and relatively good humor. Even when his cap eventually disappeared (he really needed to stop falling asleep in the break room), it was hard to care.

Not when going home meant a familiar pair of hands reaching out to touch him absently, pushing their fingers through his hair with even more enthusiasm now than when there was something to grab onto.

It took five months for Yosuke’s hair to approach ‘normal’ again. He barely noticed.


End file.
